I’m sorry, I just can’t date you
The man spat at her “All you non smokers
are alike, we’re pariah to you.
Why don’t you get off your High Horse?”
Jess nodded politely. She asked him
to hold her coat. It was bitter cold
but not as cold as what she was about to show him.
She unbuttoned her sleeve
and displayed the round scars
that have been with her since she was three.
Outside, here in the sun,
they flare into life in brutal Technicolor.
He said he was sorry.
For which part she didn’t know.